The interdimentional Bastard
by Fiji The Beggar
Summary: A god recruits Spike to be Earth's champion


Title: "The interdimentional bastard"  
Category: A merry romp  
Rated: PG-13  
Characters: Spike mostly  
Continuity: Since I've gone completely in off the deep end ... continuity is the last of my worries  
Summary: A god offers Spike some great price if he'll be Earth's champion  
Disclaimer: all hail Joss  
  
Man he was beat. Spike dragged himself to the concrete slab that served as his bed and crashed down. But as is often the case when you're dead tired, his mind refused to switch off straight away. The story of his life, or at least the last 3 days, rolled in front of his minds eye.  
He had come back from a good night of slaying, shagging and cruising the town (after he saw the slayer home). And then, early morning, His crypt was invaded by ... Willow, Tara and William. "Come on a picnic with us, Spike". And he had gone on the picnic. And the picnic had lasted well into the afternoon. And at one point he was caught in a dwindling piece of shadow. He prayed to whatever God was listening that no one had seen him run for cover, hiding under an empty box of nappies.   
The next night there had been some great evil about ... which turned out to be 3-foot gnome with a gift for pyrotechnics. All in all he had been up for one reason or another for some 80 hours now. The images were fading, good, his mind was switching off.  
  
Something bothered him. He opened one eye to see that it was still night. He got up, stretched, yawned. What was THAT? Right in the middle of his crypt was a perfectly round white circle. He scratched his head. Nope, he hadn't left any perfectly round white circles lying about. Then where did the bloody thing come from?  
  
'Come, Come,' he heard in his head.   
  
Ok, recap, there's a white disc on the floor, I didn't leave it there. I think I'd remember leaving white discs on the floor. It gives off some light and has an annoying voice.   
  
He shook his head, must be hallucinating. Food, must have food. The fridge offered little comfort, half a cup of blood. Maybe he should get a smaller cup ... maybe he should just get more blood!  
  
Aaaah, That's better.  
  
But the hallucination was still there, now going 'Come, come' somewhat louder. Time for a little experiment, he dug up the nearest convenient thing, his nearly empty pack of smokes and flicked them into the circle.  
  
The packet disappeared upon contact, then the circle was gone.   
  
Neat, Spike thought, instant garbage disposal. Anyway, crisis resolved. But then the circle reappeared. The packed came flying back out and hit him between the eyes.  
  
Spike stared at the circle, blinked a couple of times. Man this thing was annoying. Maybe he should throw in something bigger, that dodgy chair he had, been meaning to get rid of it.  
  
He tossed in the chair and sure enough, the circle closed again. Spike intently watched the floor. When the circle reappeared he ducked, narrowly missing the chair flying at him.  
  
The come-coming was back, very loud now. Spike rolled his eyes, let's get it over with and he jumped into the circle.  
  
For a second there was a sense of falling, then it was gone. He found himself in a pitch-dark room. At least, he assumed it was a room, He couldn't make out any walls or a ceiling, only another circle on the floor. He was just about to step back through the circle when a tiny speck of blue light floated in front of him. The speck began to grow, not only in size, but in intensity aswell. Soon he had to squint. The blue shape began to take on the form of a man. By the light of this apparition, he could now see that he was standing in a majestic, imposing hall with great pillars and marble walls. As majestic, imposing halls went, this one was pretty ordinary. When you've seen one, you've seen em all. They're all majestic and imposing. The blue figure now bellowed "Spike."  
  
Spike cringed, just now really noticing his headache "Yeah, that's me".  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
Great, riddles, he sighed, suppose I'd better give it a shot. "God?"  
  
"What? How did you ..." the thing cleared it's throat, betraying the fact that it had one "yes, I'm god. An Earth god."  
  
"That's great" Spike said, barely suppressing a monster-yawn.  
  
"I'm one of those you call the Powers That Be."  
  
The what? Oh wait, "Right, right, well, you got the wrong vampire then."  
  
"No Spike, I specifically selected you to be Earth's champion."  
  
"Me? A champion? Wouldn't the slayer be a better choice?"  
  
"No, Spike, you are Earth's best chance."  
  
"Chance? for what?"  
  
"There is an interdimentional tournament that you must enter and win."  
  
Spike stared blankly.  
  
"The winning dimension will be granted great favours."  
  
Still blank.  
  
"Earth dearly needs to win."  
  
Spike felt a coma coming on. He froced himself to stay awake "Right, I'll be off then."  
  
"No, wait" Mr.Blue bellowed in a now obnoxiously loud voice, with echoes this time. "Do this and there's a reward."  
  
Hang on, "Did you say ... reward? Like a hundred bucks?"   
  
"I'm a god, I don't do money."  
  
"Gold then, Gods are big with the gold."  
  
"No gold"  
  
"Diamonds?"  
  
"Spike!"  
  
"What then?!"  
  
"I will grant you" blue-boy paused, Spike could swear he heard a drumroll "IMORTALITY."  
  
The word echoed through the hall.  
  
"Errr, 'scuse me ... Already got that."  
  
"What? Oh, right, how silly of me. How about a gorgeous companion who obeys your every command."  
  
Spike shrugged "Kind of boring."  
  
"Ok then, a strong independent gorgeous woman with a great sexual appetite."   
  
Spike scratched the back of his head "Got that too."  
  
"Hmmm, 50 women, just for you."  
  
"More then three at a time is a waste."  
  
"Endless supply of blood?"  
  
"Nah"  
  
"Spirits?"  
  
"Want me to put this great body in harms way for a couple of bottles of bourbon?"  
  
"OK, What then?!"  
  
"Here's a thing ... no more extreme sunburn."  
  
Blue blob pondered that one ... "deal"  
  
"And no funny stuff"  
  
"OK"  
  
"No bursting into flames if I step OUT of the sun."  
  
"Right"  
  
"No small print either, No setting my friends on fire, no fiery gaze that turns people into shrimp."  
  
"Alright, Alright! Fight for Earth and you will be able to walk in the sunlight!" Again with the loud voice and the echo.  
  
The corner of Spike's mouth crept up then it hit him. Oh Bleeding Hell! Spike, you mangy git, you should have asked for the chip out! Oh well, "Tell me about this tournament."  
  
"Simple knock out, matches are drawn every round. You win if your opponent is knocked out, immobilised or dead ... or if he gives up."  
  
"Weapons?"  
  
"Some are strewn about in the arena."  
  
"Grand, I want a battleaxe."  
  
"Sorry, this year's theme is farm implements."  
  
"Bugger ... how many contestants? Eight? Sixteen?"  
  
"131072"  
  
"WHAT?!?!"  
  
"Hey, we're lucky, last year Earth had to do the qualifying tournament."  
  
"ARE YOU INSANE! That's like ..." A quick mental count got him stuck in no time flat "a shitload of rounds".  
  
"Yes, better get cracking, your first match is in an hour."  
  
"Oh BUGGER!"  
  
---  
  
Spike stood in the arena, basking in the alien sun and bored out of his mind. The patron god of his opponent was being introduced, lord of this, king of that, destroyer of infidels, conqueror of some desert, blahblahblah. Well, at least it gave him some time to inspect his opponent. Ugly as hell, it was. At least 8 feet tall, darkbrown and neon-green skin, no neck to speak of and at least 8 limbs, two of which were used to walk on. If the thing had a face, Spike hadn't found it yet. The front of the head was a jumble of folds and scabs. Perhaps the worst part was the thick glowing purple slime that was constantly dripping out of half a dozen holes. It had been referred to as Blargh. Spike didn't know if that was the thing's name or just the speaker's reaction upon seeing it.   
  
There was some excitement around the arena, apparently there was a limit to that god's titles. Spike had a brief moment of doubt when he wondered what the starting signal would be but the fact that the eight-foot purple slime monster stampeded at him pretty much settle it.   
  
Spike easily evaded the first attack but when he readied himself for the next he noticed a huge purple stain on his coat. "Oh, Crap, this is never coming off!"  
  
Blargh attacked again but was apparently confused by his opponent totally ignoring him. Spike was feverishly trying to rub his coat clean with some sand. Blargh screamed "Blargh" at Spike, spitting thick gobs of the purple stuff and charged.   
  
One particularly well aimed gob of slime splashed right in Spike's face. Shuddering, the vampire drew his hand across his face "Ok, that does it". He leapt at the beast, kicking it in the face. The 8-foot mountain of flesh went crashing down. Spike grabbed its head and twisted hard. Blargh's head came right off.  
  
"Bloody, disgusting piece of ..." his tirade was interrupted by Blargh's head beginning to swell ominously. Spike quickly flung the head into the stands where it burst open in a brilliant and quite sickening fountain of purple.  
  
The fans loudly cheered their new hero, well, except for the twenty or so that got hit by the slime bomb.   
  
---  
  
His next match wouldn't start for a while, so Spike decided to enjoy the town. First stop, the scoreboard. The thing was positively awe-inspiring. The Great Wall of China could take a few pointers from this thing. The names were written in some alien language, but Spike could read them anyway. 'A planet-wide enchantment' his god had said 'makes everyone understand everyone else'. Nifty. Some of these names were positively weird, Gorjanwith of the Pockwok clan, Karwats the killer of the dead (who, it seems, had made up his title, since he lost to someone called Dun the dead), Wupwupwupwup the Wup (what on Earth was a Wup?), Edward the slightly naughty pixie (what???) ...  
It took him ages to track down his match, 'Spike defeats Blargh the Philosofer by decapitation'. His next match would be against Yrimeeeeeeeeer the smelly. Whatever. The town itself had a strong Roman feel to it, that is, Spike assumed Rome would have looked like this. No technology anywhere, except for what some of the tourists carried. Hundreds of stalls lined the larger streets selling everything from antiques to spells, from roasted eyeballs to ... Elvis memorabilia??? The one thing that he couldn't find anywhere was a pack of fags. Half the galaxy was here but smokes were a no show. Occasionally he'd see some god parade through the streets. Always emitting light of some colour or other, they were all at least twice as big as any of the 'peons'. That's what they called the non-gods, peons. Overhearing their conversations wasn't hard as every single one of the self-absorbed bastards spoke with a booming voice. All in all, the town was a bit of a drag and Spike was happy when he finally got summoned for his next match.  
  
Yrimeeeeeeeeer the smelly didn't look like much. He didn't smell like much either, barely a slight smell of sweat. His gray body was entirely covered in slits that opened and closed regularly. They looked more like gills then anything else. His only other really strange feature was the total absence of a nose. Other then that, he looks rather normal, or as normal as a gray noseless gill-man can look.  
The sign was given and Spike attacked. But before he reached Yrimeeeeeeeeer, he made an unpleasant discovery. Yrimeeeeeeeeer made a face like a constipated man trying to excrete a baseball size diamond he swallowed. With the thundering sound of an enormous fart a thick cloud of pure stench escaped his gills.   
  
Now, Spike ain't no stranger to bad smells. Like the time he had to hide in a septic tank to avoid a crazed mob, or the time he wandered about on a two day old battlefield looking for a snack, and he was no stranger to sewers ... BUT THIS! The smell penetrated his nose. Barely a second later his eyes started to water. He clasped his hands in front of his nose, but he made the mistake of inhaling through the mouth. The smell was so bad he could TASTE it. He felt like million maggots were having a party in his mouth. Not inhaling didn't help much. The smell still crept through his tightly sealed lips. His shirt didn't offer much protection either as it was already completely saturated with the stench. Now the aptly named smelly attacked. His blows were not very powerful, but when you're busy being nauseous, it did hurt. Spike tried to run, but with his eyes full of tears, that wasn't easy. He ran straight into the arena wall. By the sound of it, the toxic cloud extended into the stands as he heard people screaming and running for cover. Yrimeeeeeeeeer grabbed him in a bearhug and started squeezing. This was too much, his stomach turned and threw up all over Yrimeeeeeeeeer.   
Spike found himself lying on the arena floor. Was it ...? The smell got less. He risked opening his eyes. His opponent sat against the arena wall, rocking back and forth. The official came up to Spike, wearing a gasmask, and declared him the winner by submission.  
  
---  
  
Spike had been pleasantly surprised that Earth's hall came with a spa, and since he was the only Earthling present (except for his god), he had the place to himself. He lay spread-eagled and naked on the bottom of the pool, been there for a good hour or so. One of the advantages of being a vampire ... as long as you remembered not to inhale. Sometimes, he liked doing this, playing a corpse but it was about time for his next match. He drew his legs under him and pushed off. He broke the surface. Unlike humans he didn't gasp for air. No, he enjoyed the silence. The only noise came from the tiny ripple he made when coming up lapping against the sides of the pool.  
Now that his head was above the water, he could feel the air temperature, somewhat colder then the water. The water was about human body temperature, another thing he sometimes enjoyed, feeling warm again. Having bodyheath again. Mental note: go for a swim with Buffy, and if he won this stupid tournament, it would be daytime swim.  
  
Reluctantly, he got out of the pool. Had to hurry, still had to pick up his clothes from the magical cleaning service. Next to the white toga his god had provided, was the official matchreport. Way at the bottom, it said 'Spike defeats Yrimeeeeeeeeer the smelly by vomit'. That had to be worth a line or two in some recordbook somewhere. The toga fit perfectly, although he did feel a bit silly wearing something that suspiciously looked like a skirt. Too bad there wasn't a Polaroid camera about, Buffy would get a kick out of this.  
  
Spike marched into the cleaning shop and slapped his ticket on the counter. The kid behind the counter, pure white skin, tiny insect like wings protruding from his head, gulped noticeably and hurried to the back.   
  
A minute or so later, he was back.   
"Here's your pants, sir" and he slapped them on the counter "and here's your shirt."  
The kid placed a little pouch on top of the pants.  
  
"What, the bloody hell, is this?" Spike turned the pouch over and a fine black dust poured onto the counter.  
  
"We had a slight problem."  
  
Before Spike could fling a couple of insults, the kid was scurrying to the back again "I'll get one of the mages."  
  
An older guy in what most resembled a long white labcoat appeared from the back, the kid hiding behind him.  
"Hey, aren't you the guy who kicked Smellies ass?"  
  
"Don't avoid the subject" Spike growled at him.  
  
"Ah yes, the shirt" he scratched his unshaven face "well, it's like this you see, we did a level 4 spell on your pants and they still smelled."  
  
Spike sniffed them "Not much"  
  
"No, but we pride ourselves on getting everything clean, so we did a level 5 on your shirt and ..." a nervous laugh escaped him "This is the result."  
  
Spike smashed his fists down on the counter, sending pieces of wood flying in all directions "YOU VAPORISED MY SHIRT!?!?"  
  
"At least the vapour doesn't smell."  
  
"So, fucking, what?" Spike stared pacing back and forth "What do you expect me to do? Mix this with glue and PAINT it on my body?"  
  
"There's no charge" came a timid voice from behind the mage.  
  
"There had better not be!" Spike was about to drag the mage from behind the counter when a little fearie appeared right in from of him.  
  
"Are you Spike, the champion of Earth?" the little thing said.  
  
"I am" Spike snapped at it.  
  
"Your match is about to start in 15 minutes, please make your way to arena number 273."  
  
"Great!" he threw his hands up "Fucking great!"  
  
He snatched his pants off the counter and stormed out.  
  
---  
  
"Spike, we have a problem," Mr.Blue Glowy God person said.  
  
"Tell me about it!" Spike fumed as he stepped into his pants.  
  
"Your next opponent ... is Taric the Warrior Mage."  
  
"Does he fart?"  
  
"No"  
  
"Good"  
  
"Not good, he's powerful, really powerful."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Won this tournament 5 times in the past 12 years. Been champion a total of 17 times in the past century."  
  
"What makes him so good?"  
  
"He has dozens of spells up his sleeve. He can make it seem like there's 10 of him in the arena. He can move at lightning speed. He has powerspells, ball-of-fire spell. I've seen him conjure up nightmare images that reduce his opponents to trembling wreaks."  
  
"Fine, I'll forfeit."  
  
"No you wont!"  
  
"Will you stop that annoying 'bellowing voice thing'! You're not impressing anyone you know," he pondered things for a second "If you didn't want me to quit, then why tell me this?"  
  
Good question "To ... motivate you?"  
  
Spike rolled his eyes "Don't quit your dayjob ... of ... being a god. Whatever." He headed for the arena.  
  
"Erm, Spike?"  
  
He spun around "WHAT?"  
  
"Why are you half naked?"  
  
---  
  
Spike's entry into the arena was an event in and of itself. First, he drew some laughter from the male half of the crowd but this soon changed into cheers and applause from the female half (not to mention a small portion of the male half). Big happy for Spike, he bounced to his assigned place in stead of walking. But his high was short-lived as the patron god of Taric proved to have the most impossibly long list of titles. After some 10 minutes, Spike was desperate for a smoke. As he looked around the arena he saw ... 2 kids smoking!!!  
  
He strolled on over to them, prompting a bit of a commotion.  
  
"Oi," he shouted up to the two kids "gives us a smoke."  
  
One of the kids looked at him funny but lit a new fag never the less and tossed it to Spike.  
  
"Cheers, mate." The thing smelled funny, but hey, any smoke is better then no smoke at all.  
  
By the time Taric's god was done being introduced, Spike was half way through the fag. And man, he had never noticed these arenas being so pretty. The walls were a nice pale yellow that pulsed red here and there and, check it out, the arena floor was flowing like an ocean. He vaguely remembered the starting sing being given. As Taric charged him, he felt a slight chuckle coming on.  
  
This guy was fast? Hardly, it was like, he was moving in slow motion. Spike easily evaded is every attack, much to the astonishment and amusement of the crowd.  
  
Spike found himself saying stuff like "Missed me" and "I'm over here" and "Nice try, pooftah".  
  
Taric apparently tired of this. He withdrew and started making complicated gestures while chanting.   
  
'I've once seen a belly dancer that did just that,' Spike thought.  
  
Taric finished his little dance and a roar went through the audience. People were pointing left and right in the arena. Spike couldn't tell what the fuss was all about. Taric was still just standing there, ok, he was grinning like a moron now, but other then that ...  
  
He drew from his ciggy when Taric attacked again, really putting some effort into it. He scored a hit! Spike dropped his fag and Taric stepped on it.  
  
Spike stared at the extinct cigarette, eyes growing wide "You TIT!" he screamed. "I was enjoying that! Oh, you're dead, you're so very very dead."  
  
Spike came down on poor Taric like a Cordelia on a clearance sale. Hair, blood and pieces of cloth started flying. After some minutes of abuse, Taric used his lightning speed the run from the arena, screaming, half-naked.   
  
To his astonishment Spike was declared the winner by submission. He was still miffed about the ciggy though.  
  
---  
  
In the dressingroom ...  
  
"How did you know?" Blue-boy said at a non-bellowing tone this time.  
  
"Know?" Spike whispered, clutching his head. Man, his brain hurt.  
  
"That poop would make you immune to his spells?"  
  
"Poop?" God, let this conversation end NOW!  
  
"You know, poop, the drug you smoked ..."  
  
"It's a drug?" that would explain the monster migraine he had "Dare I ask why it's called poop?"  
  
"It's made from the dung of a local breed of pig. You had no idea?"  
  
"Ok, I'm going to throw up now."  
  
"Again?"  
  
---  
  
Spike entered the pub at the side of his god. A classy joint, he could tell. People congratulated him left and right. Kicking Taric's ass had made him an instant celebrity. Blue-boy directed him to the non-deity part of the pub. He took a stool at the bar.   
  
"Barkeep! Some blood!"  
  
"Hey, you're that guy that beat Taric right?"  
  
"That be me."  
  
"What'll it be, we have a wide selection."  
  
"Got anything Earth-y?"  
  
"Sure," the barkeep scribbled something on a piece of paper, threw it in an empty box, closed the box and when he opened it again, there was a brown glass bottle in it.  
  
"That's neat"  
  
"What? This? Just a dumb waiter," then the barkeep handed Spike the bottle "Will this do?"  
  
Spike studied it, there was definitely blood in it. The label said 'Tahitian Virgin'. Cool, been ages since he had a Tahitian virgin. You could really only appreciate Mutiny on the Bounty after having a taste of Tahitian virgins.   
  
"This will do just fine," he said "But I like it warm."  
  
"No problem" the barkeep took the bottle, put it in a small cauldron and sprinkled some herbs in it. The cauldron gave a cheerful 'ping'.   
  
"Here you go, on the house," the barkeep leaned closer "we don't much like Taric here."  
  
Aaah, some real Earth blood, Spike savoured the precious liquid. Odd, It was off somewhat. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Sure, it was good, but not Tahitian Virgin good. He checked the label. Oh this was so fucking typical: '85% elderly German, 10% French peasant, 5% Tahitian Virgin'. Oh well, blood is blood.   
  
"Say," the barkeep came back "your god wouldn't happen to be here would he?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, it's the sparkly blue guy over there."  
  
The barkeep frowned "you sure?"  
  
"Dawn sure, bugger practically abducted me, I'm pretty sure I remember who it is."  
  
"That's not Earth's god. I know all Earth's gods and that not one of em."  
  
Spike just stared at him.  
  
"To be perfectly honest, I was a bit surprised Earth was taking part again."  
  
"Go on ..."  
  
---  
  
"Spike! Spike! What are you doing?! Your next match starts in 10 minutes!" Blue-boy came waltzing into Earth's hall, voice once again set to bellowing-with-echo.  
  
"Who, little ol' me?" Spike said, looking as innocent as a former mass-murdering vampire could look "Going home by the looks of it."  
  
"But, But ... You can't! Not now! I order you to go to the arena!"  
  
"Well, if you were an actual god, I might just do that, but since you're not ..."  
  
"What? Who have you been talking to?"  
  
"Word on the street is ... you're not Earth's god."  
  
The blue figure didn't have a comeback, his light grew dimmer and he walked over to the benches along the wall. Still glowing faintly he crashed onto the bench.  
"Alright, here's the deal ..." he sounded very tired all of a sudden "I AM an Earth god ... it's just ... I'm a minor one."  
  
Spike smirked.  
  
"I'm not really a part of the Powers, I just work for them, do odd jobs."  
  
"Like this tournament?"  
  
"No, they don't know I'm here. Earth withdrew some time ago, there's no real point in taking part anyway."  
  
"So, I've been fighting for what? Your ego?"   
  
"Well, there was this cute little goddess I was trying to get to notice me."  
  
Save us from lovesick gods, Spike thought. "Right then, tell you what, give me my prize and I wont tell anyone what you're up to."  
  
Minor Blue-boy whispered something.  
  
"What?"  
  
Startled he blurted "I can't, I don't have the power."  
  
Spike suppressed an urge to commit deicide.  
  
"There is something I can do though."  
  
Mini-god and Spike made a deal, then Spike went out on the town, souvenir hunting. When he finally went back home, he admitted to mini-god that in the past few days he had grown to like the sorry bugger to the point where he'd think twice before appallingly killing him if they should ever meet again. But he'd still kill him, of course.  
  
Then he said "Say, if you're ever planning on doing this again," the god nodded "there's this vampire I know in LA ..."  
  
---  
  
Buffy walked out on the porch. Any sane person was still in bed, especially if they were up all night slaying baddies. But then again, no sane person would ever go about slaying evil things. She stooped down, flinching as the sudden pain in her side reminded her that even experienced slayers weren't invulnerable. She picked up the newspaper. Free trial membership, be damned if she knew how she got it, but hey, there was a newspaper on her porch every morning and she wasn't paying for it, so she wasn't complaining.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone coming up to the house, she squinted against the sunlight. Who the hell was it?  
  
"SPIKE!" instantly forgetting last night's aches, she leapt off the porch straight into his arms. The two of them tumbled to the ground. Lying on top of him, hands intertwined with his, she kissed him deeply.   
  
After a good minute or so, she had to come up for air. "And why aren't you bien cuit, right now" she gasped.  
  
Spike smirked, "Don't get your hopes up, it's just for the day."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Later, go grab your bathingsuit, we're going for a swim."  
  
They kissed again, then Spike said "Missed me?"  
  
Buffy gave him a confused look "You were gone?"  
  
---  
  
"You've got sunburn," Willow chirped.  
  
"Have not!" Spike said, feinting indignation.  
  
Willow lightly jabbed him in the neck.  
  
"OW! Hey, that hurts!"  
  
Buffy added "He wouldn't listen to me. Kept doing the big touch guy I-no-need-icky-lotion thingy."  
  
"Don't tease me, or ..." Spike said ominously.  
  
"Or what, you'll lick me to death?"  
  
Spike whispered to her "Wouldn't YOU like that?"  
  
"This is all quite remarkable. I have never heard anything about this tournament," Giles interrupted.  
  
"'s nothing special, just a few guys going all caveman on eachother ... BUT" he jumped to his feet "I've brought souvenirs!"  
  
Just then the babyphone exploded into action.  
  
Dawn and Anya were already halfway to the babyroom when Tara stopped them "It's ok, he always does that before really going to sleep."  
  
Asif William had heard his mother, he instantly shut up.  
  
"Right then, the souvenirs ... Willow, this is for you."  
  
"Ow, wow! a piece of paper, just for me," She scanned across it "What is this?"  
  
"A microwave oven spell."  
  
"Cool, we needed a microwave."  
  
"Now, Giles, this is yours."  
  
Giles took the book and read out "The pocket guide to Interdimensional demons and squirrels. Never thought I'd say this, but thanks Spike."  
  
"Interdimentional Squirrels?" Xander said.  
  
"You don't wanna know, honey" Anya answered.  
  
"Who's next?" Spike said.  
  
"Me! Me!" Dawn jumped up.  
  
"Ok, let's see, where did I put that doll."  
  
"A doll?!?!" but Spike didn't give her time to settle into pout mode. He handed her something that suspiciously looked like a hairnet.  
"Eh?" she said.  
  
"You put it on like this" Spike spread it across the top of her head, hiding it under her hair.  
  
Afraid to move Dawn said "Now what"  
  
"Wait a sec, it needs to take on your bodyheath"  
  
Sure enough, a few seconds later, the net started to lift of her head an inch or so. It gave of a faint light that diffused through her hair.  
  
Willow levitated a mirror to Dawn, who instantly begin to chirp "Oh, this is so cool, thanks Spike!" She paused her admiration of herself just long enough to give Spike a peck on the cheek.  
  
"It's all the rave over there, all the cool kids wear it." Spike practically shouted over Dawns excited cries.  
  
"She can't wear it outside the house though," Buffy said, then off Dawns weird look "It's magical! How are you gonna explain it to your friend".  
  
"Oh, come on, Buffy," Spike interjected "She can always say it's an early prototype from Taiwan. You'd be surprised what they can do with chips these days."  
  
"You'd know wouldn't you" Buffy teased.  
  
"Hey, I'm hurt now"  
  
"Poor baby" she nuzzled up to him but before she managed to kiss him, a strange purring sound escaped from Spike's bag.   
  
"What's that?" Buffy asked. A little furry creature with huge eyes and short legs crawled out of the bag, looked around the room and whistled a bit.  
  
"Ah, this" Spike said as he picked the thing up "is for Tara. Tara, I know how hurt you were when your cat bought it."  
  
"You should, you ate her!"  
  
"Yeah, well, sorry 'bout that."  
  
The girls flocked around the little critter.  
  
"Now, there's a couple of rules, no bright light, no water, don't feed after midnight"  
  
Buffy went "Spiiiike, you didn't?!?!"  
  
"Kidding" Spike said, throwing his hands in the air "It does have a nifty feature."  
He took the little bundle of fur and said "If you think of another animal, then, if he feels like it ..."  
  
The thing bounced up and down a bit, then, with a weird plopping sound it changed into a squid.  
  
"A squid?" Anya said, with disgust on her face.  
  
"Well, at least it's not a squirrel," Giles added.  
  
"He'll change back in a minute or ..." Spike said.  
  
"when he feels like it" Willow and Tara said in unison.  
  
"Right, next, this ..." Spike carefully lifted a crystal ball out of the bag "is for William."  
  
Willow got a worried expression on her face "I think he's a bit young."  
  
Spike grinned mischievously, then he threw it at the wall. Surprised gasps abounded all around. The ball bounced harmlessly of the wall with a cheerful dingle and produced a bright array of colors. Spike caught it again and the thing dingled again. "Unbreakable," Spike declared "and non toxic."  
  
"Anya!" Spike shouted "For you." He tossed her something.   
  
She studied it "OHOHOH Look honey, it's a real gold Charlemagne!" Then to Spike, she said "This must have cost a fortune."  
  
"Nah, they're a dime a dozen over there, well, except for there being no dimes."  
  
Spike settled back into the couch, watching everyone scurry about checking out this or that gift. He intently watched Xander who was already beginning to squirm. Spike let him be for just a moment longer and then, when he was about to complain, Spike slapped himself on the forehead. "Xander!" he said "Almost forgot you." He dug a little pouch out of his back pocket and tossed it to Xander.  
  
"What is this?" Xander said, pulling a couple of dark brown strings.  
  
"You smoke it" off their looks, he added "It wont give you cancer or anything. Apparently, it's quite the aphrodisiac."  
  
"What's it called" Xander wanted to know.  
  
"Poop," again off their looks "Hey can I help it!"  
  
"You got everyone something" Buffy said as she settled against her vampire "You're just one big fluffy teddybear, aren't you?"   
  
"Yeah, that's me, fluffy the vampire."  
  
---  
  
Approximately one year later, Angel entered the Hyperion hotel. Some guys from Gunn's crew had had their birthdays this month and they threw one big birthdaybash instead of several small ones. Angel, not being 'with' today's music had left as soon as it was politely possible to. So for the rest of the night, it was just him, P.H. Lovecraft and ... a white disc in the middle of the lobby? He was damn sure he hadn't left any white disks there.  
  
"Redemption, redemption" the disk called out. 


End file.
